62nd Searing, 124
It was late, later than Stefan should have been down in his earthbound sanctuary of cogs and scattered schematics. Late enough that it would be commented on by both his wife and his manservant. If he was lucky those comments would be in the form of knowing and slightly judgemental looks. Their care was paramount and he would be far worse off, likely dead, without it, so he accepted it when their disappointment was used to keep him on the path of health and well-being.
The reason he was down there so late instead of up at the Hall with his family was because he was procrastinating. The final experiment of the set, setting a burst of life-force energy coursing through what had once been the bones that contained his brother's brain, was all set up. It awaited only his presence to initiate and document it. He was procrastinating beginning this final step in his months-long experiment for two reasons. The first was that, if he waited, his family and staff would be in their beds, hopefully asleep, by the time he was done and thus they would not have to see either his elation or sorrow.
These were the two emotions he had calculated to be his most likely reactions to either outcome. The calculations were flawed in that he had never encountered a situation like the one he was currently engaging in and therefore the 'calculations' were more like 'mildly educated guesses'. Even should his guesses be wrong, he knew he would be having some reaction to the results and that they would not involve the sort of mildly careful interest that science experiments were expected to cause. Emotional agitation of any sort would be noticed if he returned home while those who knew him best were awake to observe him and he did not want that. Neither congratulations or empathy were wanted as either would require a rather more detailed explanation of his resent actions than he cared to give. If the results were failure they would be marked down with all the others and likely discovered upon his death along with all his other journals and schematics. If the results were success... well, he hadn't fully allowed himself to consider what that might even look like and, because of that, he didn't know what might happen. He would have to inform Eitan, for personal and professional reasons alike, and, more than likely, accept some sort of sanction for his unauthorized experiments. Such would likely be limited and remain in the personal sphere as anything else would upset the delicate balance of power they had established. Even so, it was not pleasant to imagine the head of the Order and High Admiral displeased with him any more than it was to imagine what Delia might say if her brother informed her that his choices had been dangerous either to himself or the Nation.
None of this had any effect on his decision to proceed. Even if one is aware of an obsession, such knowledge is rarely able to restrain it. When his pocket watch told him that enough time had passed, Stefan stood up from where he had been seated, idly drawing a new set of powered armor that would make use of pressurized steam to allow for quicker, more life-like movements and walked to the narrow hatch that was the only way down into the room that held Brenner's bones and the Demon Stone.
There were a variety of locks, mechanical and aetheric, that guarded the entrance but bypassing these was automatic to him now. Having done so, he entered, carefully closing the door and resetting the protections behind him. Once within he donned protective gear, gloves, an apron and goggles that would keep him from being harmed by the aetheric energy, and, in the case of the goggles, allow him to observe them. As he did so he sunk himself in a place in which no emotion existed, in which Stefan Dornkirk didn't really exist. All that remained was intellect and a cold curiosity. Otherwise, he would have sat on the room's one simple stool and stared at the already setup experiment for hours before returning upstairs without having accomplished anything. He knew this because he had already done so three times. People were starting to notice that he was distracted, twitchy even. This needed to be done, one way or another, if he was ever to have peace again.
Reaching out he impassively adjusted the siphon on the Demon Stone so that some of the energy was redirected from where it was usually all funneled into the running of the Windworks, or the huge batteries that held it when the factory was shut down every evening. The redirected energy pooled into a smaller battery and from there separated into its aetheric parts. When only the mercurial life-force energy remained, he attacked the battery to the skull of the skeleton. Pausing he made note of the amount of power and the duration of time he expected it to last based on how long it had done so in the other skeletal parts it had been channeled into.
Once this was complete he adjusted his auraglass goggles to their strongest option and flipped the switch that allowed the energy to flow into the metal. There was a long moment in which the tension was palpable, not simply inside Stefan, but outside him as well, as if the whole room were holding its breath. There was an odd sort of hum in the air just outside the range of hearing but somehow still felt. The hair on the back of his neck and arms felt like it might rise, maybe it did, but he was too intent, eyes locked on the skull, to check.
Something was happening, but there was no movement. Typically, a skull has no joints to move except for the hinge of the jaw and that had been fused, likely by the lightning strike that had destroyed the majority of Dornkirk Manor and stripped the flesh from the bodies of his parents and brother. The energy though, the aether, was moving. Stefan stood slowly, eyes locked on the tiny movements, the tiny lines of power as they coursed through the interior of the skull. The patterns reminded him of something but he couldn't recall what. This went on for long minutes before Stefan's mind pulled back from the fascinating, intricate light show to realize that the power from the battery should have run out. Looking away to glance at his watch briefly, he realized that the time he had estimated had nearly doubled. This might be due to the energy not being used by any form of movement. He looked to the battery to see how much of its power had been used and then turned immediately back to the skull.
The battery was empty. Life-force energy never remained in an object for more than a few seconds. Lifting the auraglass goggles away from his eyes he stepped closer to the skeleton. There his normal human senses detected two things. First was a slight sound, that humming that he hadn't quite been able to hear from further away, coming from inside the skull. Second was the light. Two tiny pin-pricks of light coming from just behind where the eye sockets had also been fused over by metal.
Stefan took a startled step back, gasping aloud because, for a moment, even through the metal covering them over and lending them an uncomfortable shade of orange-red, he couldn't see them as anything but eyes. He tripped right back over the stool, his shoulder smacking hard against the opposite wall as it caught him at an odd angle. There he remained, chest heaving, eyes wide going dry as he tried not to blink, just staring into those tiny lights. Stefan felt pinned there, by that blind, unimaginable gaze. They would go out, he told himself as he vacillated between holding his breath and trying not to hyperventilate. Any moment they would dim as the energy fueling whatever was causing them ran out.
But they didn't go out. How long he allowed himself to remain standing, half fallen, against that wall, he didn't know. Eventually, after nothing else had happened, his breathing had slowed and calmed, the pounding of his heart and rush of adrenaline had slowed in his veins. Carefully, when he felt able, he stood fully and then went still again. Some animal part of him was absolutely sure that, at any moment, the skeleton would fully animate and... Stefan didn't know what, but something. Brenner in life wouldn't have hurt him, but science only knew what it was, if anything, that remained of that man.
It took a long time for the engineer to accept that nothing more was going to happen, to calm himself to the point that he was able to pick up the stool and set it to rights. Sitting down on it was difficult but the most difficult thing was taking his eyes away from the faintly glowing eye sockets. He couldn't manage it for more than a few seconds at a time, so his note taking was slow and furtive. At length, he had written, in a shaky version of his normally precise hand, as much as he knew. There was so much he didn't know.
When this was done he just sat watching through the auraglass as the tiny lines of power moved through the skull's interior cavity. This went on for hours, long enough for him to sketch several of the main patterns of aetheric transfer as they happened. Long enough for the fear to leave him, for the scientist to reassert itself and point out several facts.
Fact; nothing except living matter could hold onto life force energy, at least, nothing non-living had in any of his extensive experimentation, nor in that of the Order.
Fact; whatever was inside the skull was maintaining the charge from the battery and moving it around within itself.
Fact; the patterns of movement were logical and repeating, they had an intended purpose.
These facts did not prove that something inside the remains was alive, but they did suggest it. Something was either alive in there or attempting to mimic life.
It was hours later, far later than Stefan had intended to stay, by the time he was able to force himself back up the ladder, and then the stairs, and then into his office. A part of him feared leaving the experiment alone, but the worst case was that the energy would run out and the remains go dormant again. The protections on the room were as strong as any that could be made. He would go back, of course he would, as soon as he was able, but what would he find when he did?
It was late, later than Stefan should have been down in his earthbound sanctuary of cogs and scattered schematics. Late enough that it would be commented on by both his wife and his manservant. If he was lucky those comments would be in the form of knowing and slightly judgemental looks. Their care was paramount and he would be far worse off, likely dead, without it, so he accepted it when their disappointment was used to keep him on the path of health and well-being.
The reason he was down there so late instead of up at the Hall with his family was because he was procrastinating. The final experiment of the set, setting a burst of life-force energy coursing through what had once been the bones that contained his brother's brain, was all set up. It awaited only his presence to initiate and document it. He was procrastinating beginning this final step in his months-long experiment for two reasons. The first was that, if he waited, his family and staff would be in their beds, hopefully asleep, by the time he was done and thus they would not have to see either his elation or sorrow.
These were the two emotions he had calculated to be his most likely reactions to either outcome. The calculations were flawed in that he had never encountered a situation like the one he was currently engaging in and therefore the 'calculations' were more like 'mildly educated guesses'. Even should his guesses be wrong, he knew he would be having some reaction to the results and that they would not involve the sort of mildly careful interest that science experiments were expected to cause. Emotional agitation of any sort would be noticed if he returned home while those who knew him best were awake to observe him and he did not want that. Neither congratulations or empathy were wanted as either would require a rather more detailed explanation of his resent actions than he cared to give. If the results were failure they would be marked down with all the others and likely discovered upon his death along with all his other journals and schematics. If the results were success... well, he hadn't fully allowed himself to consider what that might even look like and, because of that, he didn't know what might happen. He would have to inform Eitan, for personal and professional reasons alike, and, more than likely, accept some sort of sanction for his unauthorized experiments. Such would likely be limited and remain in the personal sphere as anything else would upset the delicate balance of power they had established. Even so, it was not pleasant to imagine the head of the Order and High Admiral displeased with him any more than it was to imagine what Delia might say if her brother informed her that his choices had been dangerous either to himself or the Nation.
None of this had any effect on his decision to proceed. Even if one is aware of an obsession, such knowledge is rarely able to restrain it. When his pocket watch told him that enough time had passed, Stefan stood up from where he had been seated, idly drawing a new set of powered armor that would make use of pressurized steam to allow for quicker, more life-like movements and walked to the narrow hatch that was the only way down into the room that held Brenner's bones and the Demon Stone.
There were a variety of locks, mechanical and aetheric, that guarded the entrance but bypassing these was automatic to him now. Having done so, he entered, carefully closing the door and resetting the protections behind him. Once within he donned protective gear, gloves, an apron and goggles that would keep him from being harmed by the aetheric energy, and, in the case of the goggles, allow him to observe them. As he did so he sunk himself in a place in which no emotion existed, in which Stefan Dornkirk didn't really exist. All that remained was intellect and a cold curiosity. Otherwise, he would have sat on the room's one simple stool and stared at the already setup experiment for hours before returning upstairs without having accomplished anything. He knew this because he had already done so three times. People were starting to notice that he was distracted, twitchy even. This needed to be done, one way or another, if he was ever to have peace again.
Reaching out he impassively adjusted the siphon on the Demon Stone so that some of the energy was redirected from where it was usually all funneled into the running of the Windworks, or the huge batteries that held it when the factory was shut down every evening. The redirected energy pooled into a smaller battery and from there separated into its aetheric parts. When only the mercurial life-force energy remained, he attacked the battery to the skull of the skeleton. Pausing he made note of the amount of power and the duration of time he expected it to last based on how long it had done so in the other skeletal parts it had been channeled into.
Once this was complete he adjusted his auraglass goggles to their strongest option and flipped the switch that allowed the energy to flow into the metal. There was a long moment in which the tension was palpable, not simply inside Stefan, but outside him as well, as if the whole room were holding its breath. There was an odd sort of hum in the air just outside the range of hearing but somehow still felt. The hair on the back of his neck and arms felt like it might rise, maybe it did, but he was too intent, eyes locked on the skull, to check.
Something was happening, but there was no movement. Typically, a skull has no joints to move except for the hinge of the jaw and that had been fused, likely by the lightning strike that had destroyed the majority of Dornkirk Manor and stripped the flesh from the bodies of his parents and brother. The energy though, the aether, was moving. Stefan stood slowly, eyes locked on the tiny movements, the tiny lines of power as they coursed through the interior of the skull. The patterns reminded him of something but he couldn't recall what. This went on for long minutes before Stefan's mind pulled back from the fascinating, intricate light show to realize that the power from the battery should have run out. Looking away to glance at his watch briefly, he realized that the time he had estimated had nearly doubled. This might be due to the energy not being used by any form of movement. He looked to the battery to see how much of its power had been used and then turned immediately back to the skull.
The battery was empty. Life-force energy never remained in an object for more than a few seconds. Lifting the auraglass goggles away from his eyes he stepped closer to the skeleton. There his normal human senses detected two things. First was a slight sound, that humming that he hadn't quite been able to hear from further away, coming from inside the skull. Second was the light. Two tiny pin-pricks of light coming from just behind where the eye sockets had also been fused over by metal.
Stefan took a startled step back, gasping aloud because, for a moment, even through the metal covering them over and lending them an uncomfortable shade of orange-red, he couldn't see them as anything but eyes. He tripped right back over the stool, his shoulder smacking hard against the opposite wall as it caught him at an odd angle. There he remained, chest heaving, eyes wide going dry as he tried not to blink, just staring into those tiny lights. Stefan felt pinned there, by that blind, unimaginable gaze. They would go out, he told himself as he vacillated between holding his breath and trying not to hyperventilate. Any moment they would dim as the energy fueling whatever was causing them ran out.
But they didn't go out. How long he allowed himself to remain standing, half fallen, against that wall, he didn't know. Eventually, after nothing else had happened, his breathing had slowed and calmed, the pounding of his heart and rush of adrenaline had slowed in his veins. Carefully, when he felt able, he stood fully and then went still again. Some animal part of him was absolutely sure that, at any moment, the skeleton would fully animate and... Stefan didn't know what, but something. Brenner in life wouldn't have hurt him, but science only knew what it was, if anything, that remained of that man.
It took a long time for the engineer to accept that nothing more was going to happen, to calm himself to the point that he was able to pick up the stool and set it to rights. Sitting down on it was difficult but the most difficult thing was taking his eyes away from the faintly glowing eye sockets. He couldn't manage it for more than a few seconds at a time, so his note taking was slow and furtive. At length, he had written, in a shaky version of his normally precise hand, as much as he knew. There was so much he didn't know.
When this was done he just sat watching through the auraglass as the tiny lines of power moved through the skull's interior cavity. This went on for hours, long enough for him to sketch several of the main patterns of aetheric transfer as they happened. Long enough for the fear to leave him, for the scientist to reassert itself and point out several facts.
Fact; nothing except living matter could hold onto life force energy, at least, nothing non-living had in any of his extensive experimentation, nor in that of the Order.
Fact; whatever was inside the skull was maintaining the charge from the battery and moving it around within itself.
Fact; the patterns of movement were logical and repeating, they had an intended purpose.
These facts did not prove that something inside the remains was alive, but they did suggest it. Something was either alive in there or attempting to mimic life.
It was hours later, far later than Stefan had intended to stay, by the time he was able to force himself back up the ladder, and then the stairs, and then into his office. A part of him feared leaving the experiment alone, but the worst case was that the energy would run out and the remains go dormant again. The protections on the room were as strong as any that could be made. He would go back, of course he would, as soon as he was able, but what would he find when he did?
